


we all fell down when the sun came up

by marriottsmushrooms



Series: can't even tell if this is a dream [2]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: A shitty sequel, Kissing, M/M, bit dead really, it's like 4AM, just like every sequel lmao, will and Alex are asleep for most of it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:14:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21798043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marriottsmushrooms/pseuds/marriottsmushrooms
Summary: James watches George throw the cups in the bin bag nestled in the corner, and place the pizza boxes on their pile on the counter. He looks at James, and it's almost identical to earlier, but there's so much more distance between them.
Relationships: George Andrew/James Marriott
Series: can't even tell if this is a dream [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1570771
Comments: 9
Kudos: 42





	we all fell down when the sun came up

**Author's Note:**

> Bonjour
> 
> I'm so sorry this isn't really that great which is sad because the first part was actually pretty good 
> 
> If anyone wants to send prompts/ideas I'd really appreciate it because I need inspo and i have way too much free time 
> 
> Thanks again 
> 
> That mushroom bitch
> 
> title from 'don't threaten me with a good time' by panic! at the disco

The night draws to a dawdling and somewhat unsatisfactory end at around four. People leave slowly, in small groups, and as they go, a sense of relief floods in that there won't be any noise complaints from this point onwards, and James is no longer responsible for thirty drunk people. He's hardly sober himself. 

George stays, keeps quiet, stacks discarded cups and keeps himself busy. He can't stop his mind from running, he needs something to play over the repetitive tape in his mind of James kissing him, James' hands on his waist. George almost wants to press his own hands to the spaces that James gripped, if only to squeeze the smallest drop of a memory from it. He wants to remember those moments forever.

Alex stays because he doesn't want to go home on his own, which George finds ridiculous but other than that can't find any fault in. He sits quietly and makes sure there are no awful videos of him being plastered all over Instagram. George knows he won't be able to stop them all, and grins slightly when he envisions himself laughing at them tomorrow morning. Or today's morning, he supposes. 

Will stays, but mostly because he's passed out on their sofa, and James has woken Will up from a nap before and that didn't go well at all. All an accident, Will had argued, sure that James had simply startled him by standing so close, and his initial reflex was a sharp jab to the face. They had been sure that James' nosebleed would never stop. 

George tilts his head to look at Will, carefully removing the glass bottle from his hand which was resting on the floor. 

The apartment isn't as much of a mess as any of them expected it to be, but James is sure he'll be finding empty cups and mouldy pizza slices in unusual places for at least a week.

James never normally offers his apartment when it comes to parties, for exactly that reason. However, when he thinks back to midnight, he finds that he'd have a thousand shitty house parties with the most awful messes left behind just to have George standing in front of him like that again. If only he could go back and make the conscious decision to treasure every second, every cigarette, every swig from their shared bottle of beer. Every kiss- because James is sure it happened more than once, every murmur, every string of saliva, every gasp for air. 

He looks over at George, and studies him, as well as he can in the low light. It doesn't seem right to turn the main lights on, and the flashing coloured projectors that Fraser had bought were long ago switched off, meaning their apartment is lit purely by the moonlight, which is bright enough.  
George is stacking red cups, and has a collection of pizza boxes bundled under his arms. Every time Will moves, George glances over to check on him.

He passes Alex on his way to the kitchen, where James stands uselessly, and glances at Alex's screen, on the lowest brightness setting so that it just about causes his face to glow. Nothing interesting. 

James watches George throw the cups in the bin bag nestled in the corner, and place the pizza boxes on their pile on the counter. He looks at James, and it's almost identical to earlier, but there's so much more distance between them. 

"It was good," George whispers, out of the blue. The apartment is so silent that it feels wrong to speak at any volume higher than a very low mumble. He doesn't stop looking at James, their eyes don't ever break contact. 

James shrugs.  
"It was alright, I guess."

"Happy new year," George grins, still quiet, reaching over and placing his hand on top of James'. His eyes focus on their hands then, touching, and George finds himself desperately hopeful, praying that somehow everything will fall into place just like before. He's sobered up since the end of the party, so asking for James to come closer to him now seems a completely obscure thing to do. 

"Yeah," James hums, turning his hand around so that their palms are pressed together. With the tiny flicker of courage he has left, he curls his fingers so that they intertwine with George's. They're essentially holding hands, resting on the cold counter top. "Happy new year."

"To, uh-" George starts. His eyes flicker over to Alex, who looks as if he could be asleep. He may well be, but George struggles to make it out in the darkness. "To being happy." 

He lifts their hands up a little, still conjoined, as if he's raising a glass. James nods. 

Their hands fall, and George reaches the end of his tether. He watches James, who's watching him, and George doesn't know if he's imagining it or not but he swears there is some kind of wordless communication. He's sure James feels the same way. He refuses to wait any longer, because the longer he waits, the more difficult it will be to say. So he pulls his hand from James' grip, and places both of them on the sides of James' face. George leans up, and abruptly pulls James down, and they kiss again. 

The feeling of James' stubble under his palms is strange to George, but it's irrefutably James, and that's all he wants. 

James pulls away a lot sooner than George would have wanted him to, and George lets his hands fall, scared that James doesn't want him any more. 

"You want this?" 

James is quiet, careful, caring. He's so new, and so strange, but everything that George finds he's ever wanted. 

He nods, and James pulls him closer again.


End file.
